The Last Night
by Daniel Wesley Rydell
Summary: The bar was dark; which was suitable enough to fit her mood. One Shot that might be expanded.


The bar was dark; which was suitable enough to fit her mood.

Minako Aino had not chosen to admit it to anyone. She had many people who surrounded her on a day to day basis from managers to record producers, to fans and assistants. All of them were interested in her career, but there weren't many, if any at all, who she truly trusted with her life. She didn't trust any of them with her problems, her worries and stresses, because none of them would've really been interested.

Her manager was a wonderful man, but she wasn't close to him. They were "friends" but not particularly close friends, more like workplace acquaintances. She didn't fault him for it; he wouldn't be good at the job she'd hired him for if they got too close. He was tough but fair to her, and she couldn't say he didn't listen to her. But she had personal issues, things of which she couldn't talk to him about, because she instinctively knew he wouldn't understand.

No one in the bar would understand either, but that wasn't why she came here. The darkness allowed her anonymity; her idol status not allowing that most anywhere else. No one asked questions, and the bartender kept the sake flowing for as much as she chose to drink in whatever particular evening that her sorrow was too much to keep bottled in.

She wasn't a bitter drunk, and she didn't cry at the counter like she'd seen others do. However, the excessive drinking she would do during the night allowed her to sleep, where she knew that tears were shed… and that was all she could allow herself. And if she did indeed have someone to share her sorrows with, she'd tell them exactly and inexactly what was wrong.

There was something wrong in her life, and she didn't know what it was, except the fact that she was lonely.

* * *

Across the same bar, a figure walked in. Her shadowed eyes took in every aspect of the bar. Glancing around at every table, she finally noted an empty seat at the bar counter, and began to slowly make her way through the crowd towards said seat.

She too was quite unhappy.

She'd not had a good day, things hadn't gone right from the moment she'd woken herself up by rolling out of the bed and hitting her head on her side table. She'd realized she'd lost her keys, and had to resort to using her spare set, which had somehow gotten stuck on the hook she kept them on. After she'd gotten them unstuck, she found her keys mere centimeters away.

Fortunately, she wasn't late to work, and although work had been particularly arduous that day, she'd still not brought herself to hate her job. She was rewarded every time she saw a smile, heard a laugh, or received a thank you letter. So things at work had been long enough, only to come out and find someone had broken into her car. They hadn't stolen anything, but they had done some extensive damage inside and outside the car when they'd discovered there wasn't anything worthwhile to steal in the car.

So all in all, she was going to break one of her rules. She didn't drink during the week, but this Tuesday had been far too much to deal with than she normally liked. She wouldn't get "drunk;" she never did that. She hated the idea of her mind being compromised in that way. It was irresponsible to allow it, but responsible drinking was fine. She'd take a taxi home, just as she'd taken a taxi to the darkened bar.

She took a seat and waved the bartender over, ordering something light.

While she waited, she looked to her right. A man was slouched over the counter, quite drunk, almost to the point of unconsciousness. She chose not to judge him, however, as she was there to forget the pain of the day, as much as he appeared to be trying to forget the pain of his life. She turned back just as the bartender who she'd ordered from brought back her drink. Smiling gratefully, she paid him and picked it up to enjoy it…

Only to be distracted by a far too familiar sigh to her left.

Setting her beverage down, she looked over to the woman sitting next to her. She was wearing a hat to disguise herself, facing down to the counter so the shadows would cover her face. What she'd failed to notice was that she was recognizable to anyone who'd ever known her personally; regardless of how Minako tried to hide it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" the woman quietly asked Minako.

She received no immediate response from the idol however, and she started to wonder if somehow, she'd mistaken someone else for Minako Aino, but soon her curiosity paid off. "Listen, I'm here to drink like everyone else. Can you leave me in peace? I'll sign an autograph, or give you a CD, or a backstage ticket, if you'll just let me drink in silence."

The woman's dark eyes widened slightly at the defeated voice that came out of someone she considered her friend. "Anything you want to talk about?" she asked quietly. Minako shook her head violently, as she took another gulp of the cheap sake in front of her. "Just leave me alone, all right? I know you're probably my biggest fan, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I've had a _really_ bad day and I just want... to drink."

The idol leaned down, nursing the drink in front of her symbolizing the end of her interaction with the person next to her.

* * *

The buzz was pleasant now, Minako reflected as she finished off her who knows what number cup of sake. And a voice in the back of her head said that she was drinking more than she would normally. However, her pain was louder than normal, telling her that something was inherently wrong and that she needed to talk to someone about it. But, reason wasn't something she was listening too much to anymore regarding her personal life.

As long as it didn't affect her career, as long as she could keep control of that final bastion in her life, then everything would be okay.

Or so she screamed internally for herself to believe.

"Minako? Don't you think you've had enough tonight?" her "companion" asked. Minako only growled as her response, slamming her hand onto the counter. Her answer had caused the bartender to look up, a wary look on his face. He wasn't one to put up with such things, but since she usually made no scene, he seemed to allow her a bit of leeway. She closed her eyes, trying to calm the irritation that the woman (who was being far too nice to Minako in a dark world of her own creation) was bringing about.

Sudden human contact; a hand on her hand brought her eyes abruptly open. The hand was delicate, dainty if she were to use such a term. It was far too beautiful and dazzling with its graceful fingers to be touching her, but when she tried to pull away, it merely tightened. She turned, refusing to face the person, only looking at the offending arm; the one of which wouldn't let her go.

After all, looking at the woman would allow her to recognize the idol. And if she did that, who knew what would come of it? So, it was much easier to look at an arm. The arm offered plausible deniability, something she couldn't guarantee the face would.

She forcibly drove back the voice in her mind saying that she was embarrassed to admit why she was there because she knew it was wrong, and it had to have been the sake talking.

"Minako, let me pay your taxi fare home," her companion begged, which caused Minako's addled mind to soften. She was feeling better enough to sleep; she'd let a fan help her idol home. She'd say something nice when she got into the taxi, and forget about the whole experience in four blocks or less.

* * *

The two were outside, and despite her intoxicated state, Minako was steady on her feet, which disturbed her bar "friend" far more than she thought it would've. The whole night had been a shock, enough to stop her from drinking herself, only to watch and hope that her friend would recognize who she was talking to and open up as to why she was in a bar at 9:00pm on some idle Tuesday.

That hadn't happened, and so Minako's companion had helped her out of the bar, after making sure both bills were paid. And now she was flagging down a taxi so she could make sure Minako made it home safe. A few moments passed in silence. Finally, Minako looked up, not looking in the other woman's direction. "Why are you helping me?"

The other continued watching for a taxi, but one didn't seem to be coming. "I'd like to think that we're friends. Isn't that what friends do? Help each other when help is needed?" she asked quietly. Minako laughed; a harsh cruel sound that echoed through the street. "That's what I thought, until…" Minako started, and suddenly shook her head. "Forget it."

Any response that fellow bar-goer might have had was stopped as the taxi came up. She opened the door to the taxi, helped Minako in, before herself walking to the other side of the car to sit down. The driver looked up, and without missing a beat, Minako responded to his unasked question. "Get me to Bay View on the south side."

She didn't notice the woman beside her flinch, possibly because of the ease of which she answered despite her inebriation. And she couldn't bring herself to admit that this wasn't the first time by far.

* * *

One foot in front of the other was much easier said than done, especially when you were doing everything in your power not to rely on the person helping you to the door and were heavily intoxicated. Add in the fact that she still had no idea who this person was or even what she looked like.

That was partially… no, all of her fault. She'd been too (ashamed of herself) engrossed in her drink that she could've cared less to happen a glance at her companion. She supposed she was lucky, she could've found a stalker; those were always enjoyable. As they slowly made their way towards the building, Minako felt something akin to a smile reach her lips, despite how horrible she still felt.

Whoever the woman was with her, she'd been far too kind, going so far as to help her. And she'd even gone so far as to say that they were friends. Normally, she would've found that far too presumptuous, but tonight? It would be okay. "Thank you."

She could hear the smile in the other woman's voice. "You're welcome, Mina-chan," she said softly. Minako turned to look at the woman who had accompanied her and-

-woke up in a cold sweat. She sat up, blinking in the pitch blackness of her room. This was becoming too often an occurrence. She'd drink her night away, dream about some lovely person who could forget and see past all the drunkenness and hate that she covered herself in nowadays, and make her feel loved. It was always a dream though; she always woke alone.

Glancing to her side, she noted the time; 5:45am. She had to be at the office by 7:45. Which gave her another forty-five minutes to sleep, and another hour before her driver would be here to pick her up. Sighing, she went to lay back down when something stopped her.

There _was someone in her bed._

Slowly allowing her mind to process the thought, she began to push herself away, before scrambling out of bed. No, she refused to acknowledge this. She _hadn't_ screwed up someone else's life with her own depression and sorrow. No, she absolutely _rejected_ the thought.

Instead of giving it further credence, she ran out of the bedroom after grabbing a change of clothes and jumped into the shower. Fifteen minutes was all she needed, and she could get a taxi to the office. She'd leave a note; and hope that both of them could forget whatever may have happened between them.

* * *

At 7:30 that morning, a cell phone went off in Minako's bedroom. A hand grabbed said cell phone off of the side table next to the bed. The owner of said hand looked out from beneath the covers and sighed before pushing them the covers off of her head. Stretching, she turned her head to look over her shoulder. The only thing that met her eyes was an empty bed and a note.

"Let yourself out; sorry, had to go into the office early.

Don't let anyone see you leave. Maybe we'll meet again

someday. "

~ M"

It had a form quality to it. Perhaps Minako had done this before, perhaps she hadn't. But, there was something that Ami Mizuno did know. She'd find out what led her friend down this road. She'd find out, and she'd help her to the light once more. Getting out of bed, she smoothed the pajamas she'd borrowed and headed to take a shower.

—

_I've sat on this one for… well… years. I don't know that it's finished. I haven't even had a beta reader look over it. But, it's time to stop hiding._


End file.
